


The Encounter

by Yourwishisgranted



Category: Dragonball Z, Vegebul - Fandom, Vegeta/bulma - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Pre-Android Saga, Three years, Tries to follow canon, relationship exploration, will have sexytimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:05:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5866912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yourwishisgranted/pseuds/Yourwishisgranted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After some particularly angsty months since the gravity chamber was destroyed, Vegeta finally reveals his thoughts to Bulma. Unspoken and repressed feelings are explored. Future chapters in progress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What you want

It had been tense around the compound months after the gravity chamber blew up; even more so the day after a particular confrontation with the Saiyan Prince in her lab. Bulma looked over her workstation disinterestedly. She couldn't even think. And when could someone like her even say that?

Months ago he'd hurt her in a way she didn't think was possible. She had been so concerned for him, watched over his injuries like they were her own, obsessively checked his vitals when he was hospitalized...and what did he do when given that compassion?

'Leave me alone!'

It hurt to be shunned by him, stupid brute Saiyan that he was. Perhaps it was because she thought they had formed some mutual connection, even if it wasn't really acknowledged out loud. He used her inventions, it pleased her to invent things, and they both benefitted from the challenge. Maybe even deep down he appreciated and admired her intelligence.

She thought it was over after that and, in her anger and pain, she had stopped working on anything related to him. He wanted to be left alone. FINE. She would let him be alone for daring to shut her out.

Months passed and finally, he turned up in her lab unexpectedly. Just when she thought that he didn't give a damn about anyone, least of all her, he showed up out of the blue and struck down her perception of him.

Her thoughts were muddled, replaying the scene in her mind.

"What am I to you? Some silly little earthing? I think not. You know better, woman. You knew when you invited me into your home," he whispered hotly into her ear, his hand placed firmly on her shoulder and his cheek brushing against her own. "Was a little hospitality supposed to change me? I'd rip your heart out."

"Say what you will, Vegeta, but you would never do something like that," she bit out, removing his hand and turning to face him. "You've changed that much."

He smirked, stalking towards her. "Right because I'm 'cute.' So 'cute' I want to destroy Kakkarot. So 'cute' I could destroy an earthling like you."

She was surprised he still remembered her saying that. She felt herself flush indignantly. "I don't know what you're trying to get at—"

"I'll admit that I've never seen my enemies quite openly admit their attractions, but I suppose some things still surprise me. It explains so much: your constant need to concern yourself with my physical wellbeing, your need to watch over me when I'm wounded like I'm some pathetic weakling, and your emotional involvement." Lowering his voice to a husky little growl that sent a tingle down her spine, he added, "The way you look at me."

She stood there, words lost to her for once in her life. She knew he wasn't a stupid man, but she didn't know he paid this much attention beyond his obssession to train. On the one hand, it was kind of true that she harbored an awkward attraction to him. On the other, this was VEGETA and her friends would never let her live that down. Could she ever actually admit any of that out loud? To his face?

"I — I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really? You don't know. You, with all of your capabilities and intellect, don't understand? It has never once crossed your mind?"

"What do you want me to say?" She looked away from him and backed away, unsure about how far this conversation would go. "That I'm a caring person? That I care enough about you that I don't want to see you destroy yourself?"

"That's all, then. I'm a pity case to you. I'm simply a wounded animal fortunate enough to be adopted by some friendly humans."

Her eyes softened at that. "Of course not. I don't think you're a pity case. I just don't like seeing you in pain. Is it wrong for me to try to empathize with you?"

"I almost destroyed your planet and killed some of your close friends. Does that warrant your...affections?"

"As stupid as it may sound to you, I think you have shown that you deserve a second chance. You've fought for our side before."

"Alliances change."

"But so do people," she retorted.

At that he crossed his arms and chuckled. "The age old myth. The reformed bad guy tidied up by some idealistic heroes."

She scowled at his mocking tone, growing angrier with each passing second. "Why can't you just accept my kindness for what it is? I don't know why you're being so difficult about something so simple."

He sneered at her. "I come from a world that pounds kindness to the ground; a world where you keep an eye open while you sleep and never turn your back. Kindness is not some free, altruistic act. There is always a price and a selfish need. So I repeat my point, earth woman." There was something raw in his voice when he asked, "Is there something you want?"

"Why do you think that?"

"It's acceptable to admit your selfishness in my presence. Selfishness is one of the primary reasons we have a will to live and survive. It's what made my existence meaningful in the face of adversity. All this...want is what drives us."

"That's where you're wrong—"

He continued as if she hadn't spoken, closing the distance between them. "You're not some do-gooder like them. There is something that differentiates you from the others; something that has aroused my curiosity for some time now. There was a motive for your invitation."

"Why are you doing this?" She asked with a lump in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest.

She jumped slightly when he cupped her cheek. "Why so defensive, Bulma?" He smiled roguishly, his thumb trailing the length of her cheekbone in a caress. "Your little earth squad is leagues away from here; too far to cast their moral judgment on you. Your boring earth man is off on his laughable quest to train. What is stopping you?"

The tips of their noses were touching and his lips, more tantalizing and full than they ought to be, were temptingly close. His gloveless hand on her face was warm and the dark blue sweater she'd given him made his eyes all the more striking.

She truly underestimated how good he looked in human clothes.

Breathless, she uttered, "Stopping me from what?"

"From seeking what you want," he whispered heatedly, lips practically touching hers as his hand slid into her hair.

"What's stopping you?" She countered, grasping his wrist.

He froze for an instant.

"Pride."

And with that he parted from her, fists clenched and shoulders tense as he walked out of her lab without a single glance back.

She thinks he may have just openly admitted he liked her in his own weird way. Or maybe it was an outright booty call? Either way, their relationship could never go back to what it was when she could still feel the press of his firm chest against hers and imagine him looking at her the way he did.

She'd never allowed herself to fully consider it because of the implications, but could she actually have a thing with Vegeta?

She could imagine it. She had dreamt about it once after all. She could picture herself grabbing fistfuls of his thick hair and kissing those treacherous lips. She could envision running her hands over his scarred torso, straddling his hips, leaving a trail of hungry kisses over the curve of his neck until he'd moan her name and forget his pride...

"I want you," she would say, shameless and bold, in the dim light of the room as she rode him.

His hands would tighten around her waist and he would thrust up deeper into her, panting. Her hips would grind against his with more energy; more passion. Her thighs would be slick with their sweat, her cunt sloppily wet as his cock pumped in and out of her, her clit so stimulated she could cum any second...

She'd gasp his name as he rose, muscles rippling, and mouthed her breasts until it was too much. The bed would creak with the full force of their rocking hips as each thrust became more profound, his groans and the delightfully wicked sound of their flesh meeting evoking a guttural cry from deep inside her.

"Vegeta!"

A look of utter pleasure would cross his features and his lips would fasten onto hers, muffling her moans as he kissed her fiercely.

She flushed, her thighs clamping together as she allowed the fantasy to fully pan out in her mind. She was going to need her vibrator at this rate.

How was she ever going to look him in the eye again with THAT encounter in her head?

"Uhm, hey Bulma."

She jumped out of her seat and hit her head against a cabinet.

"SON OF A—OWW!"

She turned and was annoyed to see Yamcha standing there looking apologetic and cringing.

"Oh Kami, are you alright? I came back for a bit from my training. I didn't mean to interrupt since you were in one of those deep thinking moods, but I was starting to get a bit worried. You look kind of feverish."

"Dammit, Yamcha, why do you have to sneak up on me?! Don't do that!" She growled, nursing the tender spot on her head that would definitely bruise.

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly. "I missed you is all. I've been gone for a while."

"Let's hope you don't put me in a coma."

"Sorry," he said again. "I guess now's not the right time?"

"Honestly it isn't." The worst possible time.

"Are you at least okay? Especially with that Saiyan parading around the compound?"

"I can deal with him." Just not the sexy daydreams she was having about him, apparently. Those could get her in serious trouble.

"You sure?" He asked, uncertain.

At that moment, an unpleasant torrent of emotions from their last argument resurfaced. It was always there, his unsolicited opinions and his constant disapproval of her judgement.

'Why are you always in your lab?'

'Why can't you act like a normal girlfriend?'

'Why would you invite that Saiyan here?'

It had existed before Namek, but now it had become so blatantly apparent that she had felt it was enough to end their romantic relationship for good. Though she was honestly a lot more annoyed by Yamcha's sudden paternalistic attitude. It was incredibly patronizing to have her ex act like she was a delicate flower, especially after proving that she could look after herself on Namek.

"We already went over this, Yamcha. I've lived with him for more than a year. I think I understand the gist of what his deal is by now." Sort of.

He frowned. "I hope you're right, Bulma. If you need me just give me a call."

"Alright," she said with a sigh.

As soon as he departed she spotted Vegeta staring from the yard, his eyes locking with hers. So quickly she almost didn't notice, he smirked at her.


	2. Live A Little

Later that evening, after taking a much-needed shower and actually bothering to dress in something other than her labcoat and sweats, Bulma ventured towards the dining room to have dinner with her parents. It was a more common occurrence now that the holidays were approaching. At Bunny's insistence, Bulma and her dad both juggled their hectic and unpredictable work schedules to spend more time as a family. Between the three of them — since her mom discouraged them from using the bots to do the work — they also managed to set up decorations around the compound. It didn't bother Bulma; it was relieving to have someone remind her she was getting too caught up in her work.

"Hey mom! Hey dad!" She greeted both her parents as she sauntered in and plopped down on a chair at one end of the dining table. "Mmm! I don't know what you made mom, but it smells amazing in here."

Bunny beamed with pride. "Aww, thank you. I made chicken parmigiano with ziti and garlic bread."

"Delicious. And dad, I see you're wearing a designated ugly holiday sweater this evening," she joked, grinning.

He laughed. "Don't look at me. It was Carlie from the biology division that put me up to it."

"I admire her ability to talk you into wearing something other than your work clothes, dear," her mom called from the kitchen, carrying a large steaming pot into the room. She set it down on the center of the table and turned eyeing the hint of cleavage displayed by Bulma's red v-neck sweater with a playful smile. "And do you have an admirer, Bulma? You're looking lovely. Maybe you mean to consider asking that hard-working and handsome young man out on a night in the town?"

She didn't have to ask who the 'handsome young man' was.

Bulma guffawed. "Mom, no. Vegeta's not my type."

But maybe he was?

"I beg to differ, sweetie. If you ask me that Vegeta sure is husband material," Bunny chirped resolutely, smile unwavering. Bulma was about to snort until her mom added, "Besides, he'll be joining us tonight for dinner. You should consider getting to know him better."

"I know he probably won't even come because he's too involved in his training. It's all he cares about."

Bunny laughed. "Nonsense. If you knew him well you'd know that he can't hold out on food the same way Goku can't. Isn't that right, Trunks?"

"Yes, whatever you say honey." Mr. Briefs' gaze was fixated on an engineering magazine.

"Trunks Briefs! What did I say about reading or working when we're about to have dinner?" An uncharacteristic glare marred Bunny's features.

He looked chagrined as he set the paper down. "Sorry dear."

Instantly her cheerful expression returned. "Alright then, we should probably start eating. Although Vegeta should be here any minute—"

Just then, Vegeta walked up to the doorway and inspected the room. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a white longsleeve shirt that accentuated the shape of his chest. His hair looked damp, indicating he recently showered. Bulma nearly choked on her wine when his eyes met hers for a split second and just as quickly averted her. It was the first time they had been this near each other since their last encounter.

Awkward. Having a crush on her best friend's nemesis was weird.

Though she had to lend credit to her mom when she called him 'handsome.' She didn't know what it was about him being in normal clothes, but it was doing something for her.

Get a grip Bulma. You've seen this man half naked. He barely wears clothes.

Oh god, I've seen this man half naked. I'm doomed.

Mrs. Briefs was delighted. "You're just in time, Vegeta. We're all about to dig in. Would you like to join us and eat?"

He gave a curt nod, stalking forward slowly and choosing to sit opposite of her.

Everyone — save for Bunny — was silent as they served their own food. "Oh excellent! I knew you would join us for dinner. I made plenty so you should be pretty satisfied, Vegeta."

"It has a pleasant taste," he remarked after taking a bite.

"Why that is very kind of you to say. Thank you, Vegeta."

Bulma was surprised compliments existed in his vocabulary. She dug into her own meal and had to agree with his assessment. Her eyes closed as she savored the flavor of the chicken and she sighed contentedly. When she looked up from her plate she saw — no felt — him studying her.

She cleared her throat and reached for the pitcher of wine across the table, but it was too far for her to grasp. Wordlessly, Vegeta pushed it closer to her, his gaze lingering on her. His lip twitched as if fighting off a laugh.

Was he...?

"Uhm, thanks," Bulma said, grabbing the pitcher and pouring herself another drink. By the time she pressed her lips against the glass of wine and tilted it to take a sip, he was looking back down at his food and eating vigorously.

After another pause of silence, Bunny offered, "Oh this is so wonderful! We're all here having a proper dinner. I don't know about you, but I think it gets too lonely around here with the two of you cooped up in your labs and Vegeta training. I'm living with workaholics nowadays."

Mr. Briefs spoke up, "I've just been caught up in running the company, dear. We're working tirelessly to improve the hydraulics on the space ships we're building. Unfortunately Bulma and I need to meet some strict guidelines to get more funding from NASA to complete them. They were impressed with our work on the spaceship we sent to Namek, but now they want to see more improvements."

"Tell me about it," Bulma muttered. Not that she minded the challenge. "It's okay though. I need to make those better in case things go sour in three years; especially since the others wouldn't listen to me and actually want to fight those cyborgs."

"Now Bulma, I know you want to work really hard like all the others, but I think you need a break now and again. Sweetie when was the last time you slept well?" Bunny asked disapprovingly.

Bulma crossed her arms, miffed. "For the record, I slept seven full hours last night—"

"Although your efforts are admirable, that won't be necessary. There will be no need for such things because I will ascend and defeat those tin cans," Vegeta cut in haughtily, his eyes narrowed at her as he downed his drink and examined her.

Bulma's cheeks grew heated, her hand tightening around her glass. "Yeah right, bud. All you boys would be lost without my dad and I. You need us to figure out what you're dealing with."

He was baiting her and boy was it working. "I don't need the work of some frail scientists once I've ascended. Especially a bossy one like you."

"Well I seem to remember that the work of this 'frail' and 'bossy' scientist has made you triple your strength since you came here."

He smirked. He was enjoying this! "You and your father created and built the stimulator, but I did all the work. I earned my strength through my training."

"You have some nerve, you jerk," Bulma snapped, glaring at him. She wanted to say a lot more, but thought better of it with her poor parents watching.

"I do." He chuckled, his dark eyes full of mirth. Bulma calmed slightly when she noticed the carefree manner that he swished his drink around in his glass and his relaxed posture. His tone was suggestive when he said, "And you're as feisty as ever. Are you going to demand that I go bathe for my defiance? I seem to recall you doing that when I returned from space."

She looked into his eyes and felt that silly hope bubble up to the surface again. The months of gloominess seemed to fade at once from her memory; a weight lifting from her shoulders. Could it be? It finally struck her that he was trying to rekindle their banter.

Maybe it was the wine talking, but she felt she could play along too. Bulma smirked and graced him with a cheeky response, "I just might if you stink up the place again and the only shirt I'll offer you will be pink."

"Then I won't wear one if it means I'll avoid wearing that atrocity again."

That was a shame because, in her opinion, he did the pink justice. "You're just mad pink suits you."

"I destroyed those garments," he confessed nonchalantly, digging into his food again.

"You what!?"

"So that's where my shirt went..." Mr. Briefs said under his breath while he watched their exchange.

Mrs. Briefs giggled and glanced at her husband. "I see those two are getting along as usual."

"But...they're arguing."

"Exactly, dear."

The room quieted for a moment until Bulma huffed dramatically, "I can't believe you would just destroy that shirt."

Vegeta's smug expression was his only response.

"Jerk," she deadpanned, but she wasn't angry.

"The one and only," he spoke, lifting his glass of wine as if to make a toast and drinking the remainder. And in a near whisper he added, "Yet you invited me."

Vegeta was the first to finish eating; an astonishing feat considering how much more Saiyans ate. He always managed to surprise her in some way. Bulma smiled at the thought as she set her plates in the dishwasher for the bots to clean and wished her parents a good night.

She strolled into the living room and found him sitting in the alcove by the fireplace, staring out the window into the night sky. It was snowing outside. Little flurries gently billowed in the breeze, landing on the ground and slowly covering the gardens. The room had an orange glow from the fire, making the tips of his hair look like small flames and lighting the sharp planes of his face.

"I don't think it's the right weather to go stargazing," she said from where she stood.

"I'm not stargazing. I have already seen enough stars in my lifetime," he replied gruffly. "...I'm merely looking."

"Mind if I join?"

"Yes." The corner of his lip curled.

So he didn't.

She grinned impishly, walking up to his side and sitting next to him. "Too bad, asshole."

They remained silent for some time, enjoying the view offered by the window. It was a nice moment; those rare delicacies found in a time of peace. In a world where constant threats didn't exist, she may have been able to immerse herself in it. But Bulma couldn't easily forget the turmoil that was to come, nor could she stop questioning the fragile alliance she had with the man next to her.

Especially after his cold dismissal of her months ago.

"So how're you liking earth?" She asked, deciding to start off vague.

He shrugged.

"Still a social butterfly, I see," she teased.

"I'm sociable. I simply don't have your human obsession to fill every waking moment with noise."

"How's your training going?"

It was apparently the worst thing to ask. His brows creased, a bitterness in his voice when he spoke, "I have not ascended."

"Oh."

Bulma would have thought their exchange was over judging by the look of his tense shoulders and his clenched jaw. But in an unusual turn of events he opened up.

"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong," he admitted, turning to face her. Gone was the arrogant front. Instead, a lonely man stood in its place. "No matter how much I train beyond my limits I am no closer to reaching it."

Surprised that he would confide in her, she remained silent and opted to just listen.

"There's some vital part missing. I can feel it. Kakarot...he did something..." He formed a ball of ki in his hand, staring at it desperately as if it contained the answer.

"Have you considered that you might be forcing it?"

The ball of ki dissipated and he stared intently at her. "How so? Was it not Kakarot's sense of urgent need and force of will that summoned it?"

She thought it over and genuinely couldn't really see why the transformation would be unobtainable or beyond him. He was incredibly strong and committed. "Maybe when you ascend it will be from a completely different cause than Goku. I have a hard time believing saiyans all ascend the same way."

"Hn." That seemed to have placated him a bit. His face softened. "I suppose."

As they fell back into a comfortable silence, Bulma couldn't help but wonder what had brought about this tolerable behavior from him. What had motivated him to begin speaking to her again? It wasn't because he needed someone to fix the GR; her father had taken on that role when she had vowed off it. Who was this man to come around, cast a constant doubt of her judgement, and make her feel things?

She didn't know what compelled her to keep interacting with him, but she felt the need to when the night seemed so full of possibilities.

"Maybe the missing element is that you need to live a little," she joked, peeking at his face from the corner of her eye.

Months ago he would have called such a remark foolish.

He smirked. "Are you suggesting something?"

"Well for starters, haven't you ever heard of a vacation? Earth has a lot to offer. I'm sure that if you also didn't go around scowling at everyone maybe some people would even think you're attractive."

Too late, she realized what she was implying. "Oh I didn't mean-"

"Am I pleasing to gaze upon, Earth woman?" He asked pointedly, his dark eyes studying her.

She looked at the strong form of his jaw, the arch of his fine nose, his musculature barely concealed beneath his white longsleeve, and the sensuous shape of his lips.

"Sometimes."

He chuckled darkly. "I'm still 'cute,' then? I'll have you know that prior to my arrival on Earth I was highly sought after by men and women. I've 'lived a little.'"

She could be wrong, but he might be flirting. Maybe she was too. She grinned. "What about me, tough guy? Am I 'pleasing to look at'?"

"I'll leave that for you to answer as you seem rather insistent on telling me you are every waking second."

"Do you disagree?" She asked coyly, fluttering her lashes playfully.

His smirk fell away, his piercing gaze assessing her seriously. "No."

She looked away blushing and cleared her throat, keenly aware of how their hands were almost touching and their close proximity. "So you dated people and stuff?"

"Something like that," he said, voice rumbling as he moved closer. "And you? Are you still with that moronic human? Must be as abysmal and inadequate in the bedroom as he is with his training."

She snorted in shock. "Vegeta! That's rude! And, no, I'm not with Yamcha anymore."

"Figures," he whispered, his warm breath suddenly on her ear. Bulma stood still, a shiver running down her spine. "You and I alone on this stupid mudball."

'You and I?'

She tilted her head in his direction to find his lips hovering over hers, his eyes smoldering with their intent. Behind them the fire cackled.

"Enough pretenses."

"What?" She found herself saying, caught in his magnetic stare. Something was stirring between them; something she felt there would be no return from.

"Why were you there?"

"Where?"

"When I awoke in the infirmary."

The shock of that question sapped her of her ability to speak. The truth of it all was she couldn't understand why herself. Her mind transported her back to that incident. The desperation she'd felt, her heart hammering in her chest while she knelt in the rubble and scrapped her knees searching frantically for him.

"Vegeta!" she cried. He couldn't be dead.

The relief she'd felt when he lifted himself out of the wreckage, the sudden anger, and then dread when he fell back.

"I..."

"Well what is it?" There was an accusatory tone in his voice when he said, "Do you enjoy seeing me be helpless? Does it satisfy you when I have fallen? Does it make you feel as heroic as Kakkarot to corrupt me with your concern?"

Bulma bristled, standing suddenly. "You think I spent a whole night at your bedside because it makes me look good?" She seethed.

"It would seem like it. What other motive would you have for looking after me. You wish to assimilate me into your world; destroy the very essence of what I am until I become one of you."

"Or here's a crazy idea. Maybe I, as stated before, give a shit if you're ten feet under."

"One could call Frieza many things, but he was never wrong about this. There is always a debt to pay for generosity. In each journey I must lose a piece of myself."

"Why do you think this way? Why is it so hard to believe I'm not hiding anything or out to harm you? That I-" A lump formed in her throat. She couldn't say it.

His lips moved slightly as if to say something to the contrary, but instead he relented at her tone. The room was quiet save for their breathing and the fire.

"Perhaps for once I should heed your reckless advice," he said in a silken whisper, gaze never straying, "and suffer the consequences."

There was a foreign look in his eyes, not unlike a starving man. It was a deadly look...both beautiful and tempting.

Wordlessly she reached out her hand, all at once needing to touch this man. He allowed it. She touched his chest, feeling his steady pulse under the palm of her hand.

His eyes were hooded and she could feel the vibrations in his chest when he spoke. "You thought about what I said. About seeking what you want?"

There was a moment of deliberation where time stood still, a fire building up in her.

Ever so slowly she leant forward and brushed her parted lips against his awaiting mouth. Her breath caught in her throat and all at once their petty squabbles made sense. It was all culminating to this point in time. All her worries faded until all she could feel was the warmth of the fire and his yielding lips. Her eyes closed, and she cupped his face in her hands, surprised by the smoothness of it. She deepened their kiss, allowing one hand to slide back and knot in his hair.

"Bulma," he breathed when she pulled away, like it was a forbidden thing; her name a confession whispered in the dark behind closed bedroom doors. It destroyed whatever restraint she had.

Before she could even blink, he stood and his mouth was on hers, kissing her with such a fierceness that the rest of the world could melt away.

She responded by lurching forward and pressing her body against his. In turn he seized a fistful of her curls, grabbing her hard by the waist and pinning her to the wall. She thought she would melt from the thrill of it. His lips were warm and wet against hers, and she took a particular delight in feeling the fullness of his bottom lip. It was so pleasantly soft in contrast to everything about this man.

Drawing back, she snarled breathlessly, "I know what I want. Do you?"

He took her up on that challenge. They kissed again and it was as ferocious and wicked as she'd imagined. One of his hands trailed the curve of her hip and grazed the back of her thigh, lifting it so that he could grind his pelvis slowly against hers. A hot jolt of desire coursed through her, a moan escaping her lips. His lips descended down her neck and the tops of her breasts, and when his hips thrust forward once more she met them with her own. They both gasped, anticipating it. He opened his mouth, allowing her tongue to explore him. And explore, she did. One simple kiss would not be enough to satiate the tempest building up in her.

"Why now? What changed?" She panted between kisses, grabbing his face. "What about your pride?"

"Nothing has changed," he said, his voice low and husky. "Don't you understand? We always want."

"Shut up," she demanded hoarsely, kissing his chin and his neck. He groaned, tightening his hold on her.

Just as she was going to shove him towards the couch to really get things going, she heard footsteps at the stairs. Someone was heading their way.

Vegeta must have sensed it too, because he quickly stopped and backed away from her. Bulma turned, feeling some dread at the thought that someone may have seen them. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she tried to reign in her breathing.

It was her dad, but he was too busy looking over some notes in his hands to have noticed what was happening. "Bulma, have you seen Scratch? I'm trying to focus on reviewing these calculations for a boardroom meeting tomorrow and it's just not the same when he's not around."

"Umm, last I saw him he was on the other side of the compound, dad." Nice save Briefs.

"Thank you, sweetie," he said, peering up from his papers. He adjusted his spectacles when he saw Vegeta standing behind her. "Oh hi there, Vegeta. I'm surprised you're in the living room at this hour."

Vegeta glanced at her briefly before announcing, "I shall be retiring to my quarters now," and walking away.

It had taken no time for his cool and collected demeanor to return.

Mr. Briefs' eyes widened. "Oh ok. Good night."

Bulma felt a bit let down at that, but as soon as he was far enough from her dad he gave her a look that held a promise to continue what they started in the near future.

She longed to know when.

"That boy is quite enigmatic sometimes."

She watched as he retreated to his room and had to agree. "Tell me about it."


End file.
